The Apprentice of Darkness
by Ryuuzaki21
Summary: Voldemort realizes that his strength is depleating quickly and that soon he may not be able to evade his greatest fear any longer. In a desperate plan, he begins to raise an apprentice. Who will it be and will he succeed? You'll have to read to find out..
1. Blackout

The Apprentice of Darkness

AN: Hello whoever is reading this! After conquering several days of technical difficulties, I have been able to submit the first chapter of my first serious Harry Potter fanfic! Any suggestions/criticisms/whatevs would be appreciated (translation: review!!). Hope you enjoy it! And don't worry, it will become much clearer in later chapters. And now, without further ado:

Chapter One: Blackout

_Where the hell am I?_

Her eyes snapped open. She scrambled to her feet and looked around the dimly lit room frantically. _How did I get here?_ As her eyes adjusted to the poor lighting, she was confronted by a wave of dark grey. The concrete walls were devoid of any emotion. When she spun around to observe her surroundings, they seemed to be closing in on her. Her hand flitted instinctively towards the right pocket of her jeans, but she had no idea why. The pocket was empty, yet it was reassuring for some reason to rest her hand on top of it, like there was something there that would protect her. A shiver ran up her spine and she wished she had a cloak. The room was about the size of a modest bedroom, yet it held no furniture. _Ok, this is obviously some kind of joke or dream or something! In a few seconds someone's going to appear and tell me everything's alright. _But only silence louder than the detonation of a bomb confronted her in the room. All that existed were four barren walls, a ceiling, and a cold stony floor…

_No… _A sense of panic suddenly overwhelmed her senses as a horrible realization struck her straight in the face. _There's no way out of here!! _She spun around again, as if an exit would just magically appear if she wished hard enough for one. No doors, no bars, not even a crack in the floor that could be the outline of a trapdoor. _Wait, this has got to be a dream… no, a nightmare… it's impossible… how the hell could I get in here if there's no way out?!? _She shut her eyes and blocked out the dismal room. _When I open my eyes again, I'm going to wake up. _She tentatively opened one eye and saw immediately that she was not dreaming. The panic inside her grew, bloomed into an awful black rose covered in barbed thorns, smothering the rational thinking part of her mind. She ran around the cell, pounding on the walls desperately. Her knuckles scraped against the ragged surface of the concrete and soon her hands were slippery with blood. Little rivulets coursed down, seeping into the cracks in her skin. The lacerations made her scream out in pain.

"Let me out of here! Please!! If this is some kind of joke or something you got me it isn't funny anymore!! Please I'll give you anything just LET ME OUT!!" All that met her pleas was an ugly, unforgiving silence. A shaft of light suddenly hit the side of her face, but offered no comfort or warmth. She jerked her head up and saw the tiny window near the ceiling. The light wasn't a ray of sunshine, but an artificial light of some sort.

And she had the sinking suspicion that somebody was watching her through it.

Sweat soaked the back of her shirt and a wave of nausea slammed into her. She felt the urge to throw up but resisted with all her strength. The walls were closing in on her… there was no way out… Who would want to do this to her?? She tried to think of anybody who might have hated her. The grey concrete blurred in front of her as ears of frustration streamed down her face and darkened the floor her bare feet stood upon. Her body swayed. _Don't panic… panicking never solves anything…_ She couldn't think of anybody. _Shit… just keep concentrating… you're panicking… stop it. _She squeezed her eyes shut again in desperate concentration. _Stop it…_

But all hopes of maintaining equanimity were shattered as one thought reverberated off the walls of her blank mind: _Who am I? _She couldn't even remember who she was. _Who am I? Why am I here? Who are my friends? Am I alone? Am I dead?!? WHERE AM I? WHO THE HELL AM I? NOO!_

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! TELL ME WHO I AM!!" Panic and anguish ripped through her heart, made her throat constrict. Where was her home? Where did she live? How old was she? Who were her friends, her enemies, her anathemas and passions? Each breath became a knife twisting into her temples. She wasn't thinking clearly. Nothing made sense. _There_ _aren't any doors in this room… not even a crack…_ Her forehead was pounding… the room was too small… it was spinning, everything was moving way too fast and she didn't know anything… Her knees buckled and she thought she heard a scream in the distance… but it wasn't her voice, it was someone else's… a boy's maybe? But she couldn't dwell on it any longer as a sudden flood of exhaustion welled up and her consciousness was extinguished in one simple swipe of the hand of some unknown higher power.

The shaft of light faded out of existence as something blocked its path to the girl's face. A man cloaked in flowing robes of black looked down into the holding cell. The swirling shadows embedded in his onyx hued eyes reflected the arrogance and odium of their owner as they fell upon the unconscious form of his prisoner. _Weak mentality, just as I suspected… Such a pathetic girl, fainting dead away at the first stage of memory wipe. Surely this cannot be the object of affection for so many of those so called do gooders. _

_No matter, I will just have to remold her mind to suit my needs. With this surprising lack of resistance, it won't be an arduous task… I must make sure Bellatrix has prepared the Pollyjuice potion correctly… _The shadow moved away, and the faint beam of light illuminated the strands of red hair that formed a halo around the pale, freckled face of Ginny Weasley.

Soo… what'd you think? Please review, it will bring you good luck!!

Thanks for reading!! Chapter 2 will be up soon I promise!!

Ryuuzaki21

Not really but review anyway what's there to lose?

"If all the world's a stage, I want to operate the trap door."

Paul Beatty

"Imagination is more important than knowledge."

Albert Einstein


	2. Nightmare

AN: Hey, Ryuuzaki21 here! Here is the 2nd chapter to my Harry Potter fanfic, The Apprentice of Darkness. And of course I've wasted about half my weekend writing this and now I've got a crapload of homework to do… but whatevs. I hate homework anyway lol. Read and review pleeeeze!

Chapter 2: Nightmare

A scream filled with agony resounded throughout the boys dormitory in the Gryffindor tower of Hogwarts. Harry Potter's scar was on fire… it was burning through his skin… he saw Ginny in some sort of holding cell, she was screaming about something… blood was smeared all over her hands and face… and then suddenly his body was jerking up and down. He opened his eyes and saw a pale face float a foot above his face, felt hands gripping his shoulders. The mouth was moving… yelling his name. Ron Weasley, his best friend for about 7 years, was shaking him violently, trying to get him to stop screaming. Finally, the pain started to subside and the ringing in his ears gradually abated. Beads of sweat pooled in the corners of his eyes and blurred his vision, but he could still make out the forms of his roommates. Once he was fully conscious of his surroundings, Harry realized that they were standing over his bed, giving him that concerned look that he had seen about a million times before in his life.

He was sick of it. Why couldn't people understand that the look didn't make things any better, but just made him want to scream out to stop flashing him those stupid Bambi eyes. What, did they think that Voldemort would suddenly keel over if they felt bad for Harry because of his constant night terrors? But he knew that whenever a person felt they couldn't do anything to help, they would make that face and at least try to look sympathetic.

Harry looked around the dormitory and felt his face grow hot. Seamus and Dean were staring at him as if he were one of those soulless prisoners in Azkaban. Harry certainly felt like one. Recently, he had been subjected to nightmares of absolute terror. Usually, Ron would have to shake or slap him awake. In his dreams, he saw his friends die, twitching on the floor before Voldemort's outstretched hand in agony.

And occasionally, he was the one who uttered the curse, felt the surging adrenaline when he saw the prisoner's body convulsed. And the empty eyes of the various people who had died throughout his life never failed to show up sometime during the night. Cedric Diggory, lying face up on the muddy ground of the graveyard, Sirius Black falling in slow motion through the flimsy but death-inducing mysterious veil in the Department of Mysteries, Dumbledore's body slamming against the stones… A shudder coursed through his body as he furiously attempted to shut the memories from his mind.

Ginny appeared in his dreams most of the time, the person he loved the most. In fact, she was one of the few people he loved that is still alive. In the darkened corridors of his mind she would reach for his hand as the darkest wizard began his methods of torture, the shadows creating a black halo around her face as the light faded from her eyes. It was always around that time that the pain would start. It was rooted in his mind, flowed to his scar, and eventually set his nerves afire. And of course, he would start screaming like a maniac and wake up half the school in the process.

At first they were just as panicked as him when his nightmares reached a frightening magnitude. They thought his dreams were so important, almost on a prophetic level, ever since Dumbledore informed Harry of the mental connection between him and Voldemort. Apparently, Voldemort's thoughts and visions could be projected into Harry's mind because of the impact he had left on him when he failed to kill him as an infant.

In his fifth year especially Harry was unable to shield his mind from Voldemort and ended up foreseeing the near fatal encounter between Ron's father Mr. Weasley and Voldemort's pet snake. After that, Voldemort became aware of the mental link he and his enemy shared, and figure out how to project false situations into Harry's mind, making him believe that his godfather Sirius was in a fatal situation. Heroically and stupidly (didn't the two often walk hand in hand?) he had believed his vision and traveled by thestral to the Department of Mysteries. That resulted in the unnecessary death of Sirius and the severe injuries of his closest friends.

So, of course, all the boys in the dormitory would gather around his bed, wanting to hear who was going to die next. But since none of his dreams ever made any sense or never came true, they eventually saw him as the boy who cried wolf. Harry felt like hexing every last one of them with the six and a half years of education he had acquired during his student career at Hogwarts. None of them understood that he really didn't care for these dreams; he didn't want to go to sleep just to see the blood run down the arms of the people who had put their lives in his hands. A shiver passed up his spine like an electric current as he remembered his most recent nightmare… And every time Ron shook him awake and yanked him through the thin surface tension that lay between reality and the dream realm, he was confronted with the cold glares of his friends. What the hell was he supposed to do?? Did they honestly believe that he could suppress them or something? Rumors raced throughout the school and soon Harry was not only confronted by his friends but also the younger kids who sneaked in accusing stares at every possible moment. _I guess ignorance really is the most common affliction of man._ It wasn't his fault he happened to have constant nightmares. The only thing that could possibly have that effect was having his parents murdered, watching one of his classmates die in a graveyard with Voldemort and his supporters, witnessing the death of Sirius Black, the closest thing to a father he had ever known, and most recently, the death eater's attack on Hogwarts, Snape's betrayal, and the climatic death of Dumbledore.

_Oh yes, it's totally illogical to have nightmares after 6 or 7 years of deaths and misery… If only Dumbledore were still alive… then maybe I'd know what the hell to do with my life… _

A recapitulation of memories raced through his subconscious: Malfoy threatening Dumbledore in the tower, that sniveling bastard, his wand aimed towards the headmaster's throat. Snape pushing Malfoy aside, Dumbledore's strange plead, and then a flash of green, that great harbinger of death. He almost yelled out in desperation as he forced the recollections out of his mind. He imagined physically shoving them out onto the street and slamming the door to his mind in their face.

Maybe he was going insane, like people around him whispered. He could hear them in the corridors and on the staircases, turning towards each other and snickering just loud enough for him to hear. _I guess it doesn't matter that I'm the one who's going to have to save their asses when Voldemort attacks again._ Of course, it was just human nature to take the most important things with a grain of salt.

"Well?"

Harry's thoughts snapped back to the present as Ron began the usual questioning routine. Harry sighed and resisted the urge to grab his Firebolt and escape everybody around him. He knew Ron was trying to be supportive, and he was a great friend, but sometimes Harry just needed to get away from it all.

"It was nothing," Harry curtly responded.

"I don't think it was nothing Harry. You reacted badly to whatever you were dreaming about..." Ron glanced at the boys around him and made shooing motions with his hands. Reluctantly, Seamus, Dean, Neville, and a couple of other boys shuffled sleepily out of the room.

"You can tell me." Ron's overly concerned look was bothering him.

"Really. It was nothing. Tell the others to come back in already so we all can get some sleep." Agitation bubbled up in Harry's mind. He really didn't feel like dealing with what he saw in his dream tonight, and he definitely didn't want to cause trouble for the other boys in the dormitory.

Ron looked doubtful, but eventually gave in and called the others back into the room. After assuring them that everybody was okay, and no, Voldemort was not going to attack any of their relatives tonight, they collapsed back into the soft covers of their beds.

Even though they were all living in a turbulent period filled with dark magic and death around every corner, Harry couldn't help but laugh inwardly at Ron's motherly behavior. But soon the spark of happiness was snuffed out as he was reminded once again of the war raging between the members of the order of the phoenix and Voldemort's followers. Though the Order had returned victorious in many battles, there seemed no end to the dark lord's resources. And now Ron's father had been called into service. Ron's attitude and personality had gone through a radical evolution after he realized his father may not come back from war. He knew that Harry's dreams may always be traps that Voldemort was using to lure them into danger, but could not lose the hope that Harry would one night see the evil wizard weakened and his father a hero. _Come to think of it, the war has changed everything_. The school had upped its security measures to an extreme level. There were severe restrictions on communication to people outside of Hogwarts and the trips to Hogsmeade, a common comfort to the students, were discontinued.

However, Harry couldn't stop thinking about his most recent nightmare. Of course, many dreams before had involved the death and/or torture of Ginny, but none in so much detail as this one. Just the thought of Ginny throwing herself at the walls of an imprisonment room made his hands shake. The other boys' breathing soon turned to soft snores, but Harry felt like he had been petrified from looking at a basilisk's reflection.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw through the eyes of the only girl he had truly ever loved. He felt the swelling pain in her heart as she frantically spun around the room, searching for any way out. He almost smacked himself over the head for thinking such thoughts. At this rate, he was definitely going to go insane. _Just what Voldemort would want, huh?_ Last time he actually believed his dreams, his beloved godfather met his cruel demise. Harry wasn't going to fall for Voldemort's tricks ever again. But he was tempted to sneak out of the room, grab the invisibility cloak, and check on Ginny somehow.

But he didn't want to make a big deal out of nothing, and he convinced himself that Ginny was indeed safe and sound, and he would just be making a fool out of himself if he were to panic about some stupid dream. Nevertheless, he couldn't shake that weird feeling that disaster was imminent.

Sooo what'd you think (tell me by reviewing or else I'll never know ) Ooooooh something bad's going to happen! I'll try and update as soon as possible! Remember to review (its healthy for the soul)!

Ryuuzaki21

"If the facts don't fit the theory, change the facts."

Albert Einstein

"I know a trick worth two of that"

William Shakespeare


	3. Encounter

AN: Ok chapter 3 is up!! To my avid readers (if there are any out there, I wouldn't know since I haven't gotten many **reviews** yet), I hope you'll enjoy!

Oh yes, and addressing the thing about Voldemort's eyes really being red instead of black… uhh… he was wearing color contacts!! (yeah it's the best I could come up with… whatever XD… oh and also, I don't own Harry Potter or anything associated with him… really, I'm not worth suing…)

Anyway, on with the chapter!

Chapter 3: Encounter

_Please let it be different, please let it be a dream, please let me go free, whatever benevolent god that is out there, help me!_

A brown eye faced the world, and immediately took cover behind a thin lid. _I'm still here._

How many days had it been? Or was it only a few hours that elapsed since she first woke up in this hell? _Well, that's how time works- exactly the opposite of how you want it to pass. If you're having fun, it'll fly by without any notice, but when you want it to pass quickly, it takes it sweet time. _And she certainly wasn't having fun now.

_Well, at least I'm alive._

_But not for long_, retorted the pessimistic part of her mind.

After being restrained in the holding cell for so long (or at least it seemed like a long time), the girl had developed two different personalities. The first half of her was optimistic and always believed that the next time she opened her eyes to the world, she would be back home (wherever that was) in some kind of fluffy bed with her concerned mother (whoever she was) looking down at her with a concerned look. And then there was the other half. She was definitely a cynic, and pretty much believed that she had done something wrong to deserve being imprisoned in such an awful place. Both halves constantly fought and contradicted each other. But if both personalities were present, that who was she really?

Her hair was long enough so that she could see it if she held it up in front of her face. All she knew was that she had pasty white skin dotted with freckles and brilliant red hair. But what was she like? Was she a girly-girl who twirled around on stage in pirouettes? Or did she spend the lazy days of summer outside, exploring and climbing trees? And how old was she? Her loss of identity tore her apart and kept her pacing around the room when she wasn't splayed on the ground, watching the unmoving ceiling.

_Am I insane?_

_No, you're not, you're just confused_

_Ummm… yeah, you're definitely cracked up. No wonder somebody put you here. _

Ginny put rubbed her temples with her fingers and tried to block out the pessimistic side to her. But she had to admit, her situation was pretty bad. Since there were no exits and no signs of other life (other than that creepy light that sometimes radiated from the small window), she had no idea whether she would survive or not. Her stomach interrupted her nomadic mind's wanderings and conveyed to its owner that it was indeed empty.

"Um, I know I'm supposed to be some sort of prisoner here, but if you can hear me, I need some food. And water! Humans need them to survive!"

Honestly, she couldn't decide whether her captor was human or not. It was certainly possible. There didn't seem to be any rational explanation towards why she was here, and nobody had tried to save her… so maybe she was abducted by some kind of alien race.

_You're definitely cracked up… no wonder they put you here. _

Once again she desperately tried to stay positive, she wasn't going to crack, and she hadn't done anything wrong. She racked her brain for the possibility of her being a mass murder or terrorist. But her mind didn't hold any murderous thoughts or sick intentions.

_Maybe I'm dead. _

_No way, you can't be, or else you'd be in heaven!_

_But maybe I'm in hell. Maybe I wasn't a good person in life. I sure wouldn't be surprised if it were true._

_But how can I know for sure?_

_I can't. _

Instead of continuing her internal argument, she discontinued the war between the two sides of herself and gave up trying to remember who she was. She merely sat down on the floor, wishing for some food or water.

_Maybe I'll count all the cracks in the ceiling so that I don't die of boredom._

But there weren't any cracks… in fact… the ceiling was perfect. There were no stains, no signs of paint erosion, and was so smooth that she wished it were ice instead of stone. Her stomach protested violently and her senses were washed out by a sudden wave of nausea. She attempted to keep her mind off of her steadily weakening conditions.

Suddenly, her thoughts were cut off from her body's demands for necessities when a man appeared in the room. No smoke, no special affects, he was not there one moment and then standing there threateningly the next.

_What?!? _She rubbed her eyes to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. _Impossible… he just appeared out of thin air! _And he was holding some kind of stick in his hand… _a wand? No, you're being ridiculous, magic doesn't exist. This must be a hallucination. I'm tired, and I'm insane and I might even be dead. Ha, maybe Satan's finally decided to settle a score with me. _She braced herself for impact, but surprisingly, he just stood there and looked around the room, as if checking to see if he were in the right place. His eyes swept the room and then came to a rest on her face. Her body stiffened and she desperately thought of some way she could protect herself or escape. _No way to get out, no weapons, no strength... ok if I'm not dead now then I'm soon going to be. _The mysterious figure started advancing towards the girl. She stood up shakily and began a cautious retreat to the back wall.

As her eyes reached his face, a gasp escaped her lips. _His eyes_… they were full of shadows and seemed to have an in comprehendible depth. At first they seemed completely darkened but flares of burning crimson anger lied underneath the surface. Instead of a normal nose, only two thin slightly diagonal slits existed on the near flat surface of his face. His pallid skin and pale lips scared the hell out of her, but she was so exhausted from deprivation that her body wouldn't respond to the immense fear that flooded her senses. He raised the uncanny stick in his hand. _What, is he going to try and curse me with it? This guy must be cracked up just like me. _Inwardly, she gave a quiet chuckle. However, her laughter was evanescent as she wondered if he really could harm her with magic. After all, he did poof into the room in a way that defied all logic.

A loud hiss, almost incoherent. "Crucio!"

The girl's screeches resounded throughout the room as her body was racked with sudden waves of petrifying pain. She was immediately brought to her knees as her limbs shook uncontrollably. The magnitude of the spell set her skin afire and made her plead for death. her mind was wiped blank, all she could feel was the stabbing, intense, insane pain…

And then relief. Warmth flooded her veins as her muscles gave way and she relaxed on the floor. Sweat made her face and hands grimy when it mixed with the dirt on the floor and she only had enough energy to lift her head from the ground. She saw the man still flourishing the stick. A smirk grew on his face and she wanted to kill him. No matter what it took, she wanted to unleash her rage. The stick, once innocuous, became the thing she feared and hated most.

"Do you know what I just did?"

The man spoke to her. She refused to meet his eyes and instead concentrated on gathering a reserve of energy so that she could stand up. She would not appear weak in front of him. He would not get that satisfaction.

"All I said was one word, and you were hit with one of the most powerful curses that exist in magic." Ginny's eyes rose to meet his face with that statement. _No way… _"But you don't remember anything about that, do you? Did you know that once you also had the power to bring others to their knees with simple phrases?" Her eye's widened and her mind searched for any rational explanation as to what the hell was happening. _I used magic?_ She tried to remember anything… magic… the word crucio… But nothing came up. She spoke to the demonic figure for the first time.

"Who am I?"

Another chapter down, another one on the way! But unfortunately, schoolwork takes some priority and I may not be able to update as often (but reviews would certainly motivate me to make the wait shorter hint hint).

Thanks for reading!

Ryuuzaki21


	4. Blind Spot

AN: WHOA sorry for the delay… I got a bit carried away with schoolwork and summer camps and all that :-P. Well, here's the fourth chapter (FINALLY). Hopefully I'll be able to squeeze out a few more chapters before school starts. And now- the chapter you've all be waiting for (or at least I hope so)…

My name is not J.K. Rowling. Therefore, I do not own Harry Potter (oh how I wish I did :-P)

Chapter 4: Blind Spots

_He was in a concrete room… not unlike the ones used in Askaban. No doors, no decorations, nothing to suggest a modicum of hope. Except… he wasn't himself. The wand in his hand wasn't the trustworthy phoenix core wand destined for him. No, it was bone white, and while it inexplicably had a similar feeling, it was much darker than his. This wand was not for healing, nor for helping. Over the years, it had adapted to it's ruthless owner. _

_A sudden rush of rage flooded his mind as he realized whose wand he was gripping so tightly as if it would fade away if he let go. No wonder it felt familiar, it was his wand's brother, the only thing his magic was ineffective against. Together, the brothers were at a stalemate, unable to harm or defend. _

_Only he couldn't let go, even when the faces of those who died because of the wretched tool flashed in his memory._

_Unbidden, his eyes searched the room and stopped on a painfully beautiful girl. Unable to stop, his arm raised with the wand and his mouth uttered a single, deadly word. "Crucio." The girl screamed, her red hair obscured her face, and then he was falling, falling out of his body, into oblivion, into the darkness…_

"NOO!"

Harry's eyes shot open as he sat up and looked around frantically. However, he wasn't in that bleak dungeon, and he didn't have any wand in his hand. The Gryffindor common room swam before his eyes as a bolt of pain streaked through his forehead. Before he could react to anything, Ron had jumped out of his bed and was beside Harry, his freckles standing out more than usual on his pale face.

_St. Why couldn't I control myself? Why do I always have to scream like my nightmares are true? Dammit they're only dreams. And now you look like a fool. Yet again. _

"Harry!" He croaked, "What happened?"

He was still caught in a rift between his life at Hogwarts and his life intertwined with Voldemort. Each time he yanked himself through to the his safe haven at school, he noticed the distance between his seemingly separate lives was closing. Soon enough, he knew he wouldn't be able to escape Voldemort, not even through his friends or his teenage life.

"Uh… nothing. Just a bad dream, that's all." Harry was tired of concocting lies. He could fool the other kids easily, but Ron had that determined look on his face. "I'll explain later." he hissed to Ron hurriedly.

Why Voldemort opening their mental link again? Harry knew he wasn't skilled at Occlumency, and even if he was, what were the chances of him being able to defend his mind against the most powerful dark wizard the world has ever seen? He had to admit, he was a bit pathetic compared to the evil mastermind. But he was adamant. There was no way Voldemort would get through to Harry by using visions of Ginny. Although they had drifted apart a bit after Harry ended their relationship, he had seen her eating at the Gryffindor table last night. There was no reason to panic.

Earlier:

"Is it ready?" A resounding bang punctuated his statement as the door slammed behind him. Bellatrix Lestrange was hunched over a cauldron filled with a foul smelling liquid bubbling. The fire heating the concoction cast a shadow of her figure on the wall. When she saw Voldemort, she fell to her knees in front of him and held her hands out in front of her, as if she were offering her greatest possession to him.

"It is, my lord." Voldemort smiled inwardly. When his other servants addressed him, their voices were shaky and though they attempted to seem resolute, he could smell their fear. Their awe and fear coexisted within them in an almost palpable form. However, when he spoke to Bellatrix, she was able to address him clearly and directly. He knew it was because she did not fear for her life as the rest of his servants did. She had fully given him her life, and trusted him with it beyond belief, blindly following him wherever he led. This was how she became his most trusted death eater (although he would never show it to anybody).

"Good. Here is the hair." He tossed her a vial containing hundreds of strands of hair. She looked at the huge amount in awe.

It was an easy task, retrieving the hair. He remembered it clearly. The girl was still whimpering on the ground from her last bout with the cruciatis curse (one of his favorites).

He had warned her before, when she agreed to become a wizard again with his help that she would have to learn how to deal with pain.

He then took out a vial, and with his wand, removed a large chunk of hair from her pretty little head. The scream had been cut short as the acoustics in the room were poor, yet he still felt that rush of satisfaction that came with the pain he caused others. He left her there, her blood wetting the cement, creating an ugly stain.

As Bellatrix dropped a few strands of the hair into the cauldron, the potion took on a bright, vibrant hue. She was about to bottle some in a flask when Voldemort stopped her. "Wait." He took another vial from inside his robes. This one held a sparkling emerald substance. He unceremoniously dumped the vial's contents into the cauldron, and then stepped away. Though Bellatrix had no idea what he added, she didn't doubt him for a second.

She filled the flask with the potion and took a swig. Almost immediately, she dropped the flask and some of the potion splayed out onto the ground. Voldemort hissed and jumped back in order to avoid contact with the substance. Bellatrix's skin shifted as she shrunk down, and her black, lifeless hair shone brilliantly as she transformed into Ginny. Apparently whatever Voldemort had added to the potion was nothing malignant. In fact, she felt better than she had in a long time. A young body is just what she needed in order to become stronger.

After filling her flask again with the polyjuice potion, she bowed to her master and then apparated into the night.

Only when the room was empty did Voldemort allow a full fledged smirk to come over his face. He knew Bellatrix would let him lead her into a slaughterhouse if he wished. And what he did right then was not so different.

It was a good thing he didn't allow himself to get attached to his servants. How transient their lives were…

Bellatrix appeared in the middle of a forest. Using the stars above her, she was able to locate the exact position of Hogwarts just as Voldemort had assured her. Tucking Ginny's wand into the back pocket of her jeans, she made her way towards the castle.

_The silly little kids won't know what hit them. _

Ah, the last days of summer. Hopefully I'll be able to drag them out as long as possible. And again, review please!! If you don't like what I'm writing, tell me! And if you do like it, definitely tell me! Who cares about summer reading or back to school shopping- reviewing is way funner (grammar sucks).

Hope to get chapter 5 up soon,

Ryuuzaki21


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